


Imperfect Pitch

by onereyofstarlight



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Hearing Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereyofstarlight/pseuds/onereyofstarlight
Summary: Virgil ruptures both his eardrums after an explosion.
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966411
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Imperfect Pitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CreativeGirl29](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeGirl29/gifts).



The door at the end of the corridor was all the mattered. John was telling him to move, his voice getting sharper and sharper, the intervals between that same instruction being issued getting shorter and shorter. As though he was simply ignoring that one simple direction.

If he had focus to spare, he’d be yelling right back at his brother. He's running already, he could see the display in his helmet just as clearly as John could. Hydrogen levels rising. Fire getting closer.

He didn’t intend to be in the room when they met.

Steam hissed from the pipelines, and he lifted his gloved hand to wipe away the condensation. The sweat dripped down his nose. There was no escape from the heat.

He was lifted off his feet before he registered the sound, a shockwave blowing through the building.

A sharp crack and the display in front his eyes flickered and died. His breath quickened, making the most of the oxygen spilling out between the polymer seal in his helmet.

A wave of dizziness kept him on his knees even as he spotted the fire on the ceiling above him.

The pressure was building, his ears screaming against the change in equilibrium.

Virgil had just enough time to recognise the danger and pull himself into a protective ball when the second explosion hit.

Heat seeped into his helmet, the rest of his body strangely cool in a room filled with orange and yellow flame.

He could hear all his brothers now, indistinct as the pain in his ears flared.

It was the last thing he heard.

Yellow and orange faded to black.

***

Awareness returned with a ringing nausea. Virgil could just make out the strains of muffled conversation bleeding into his consciousness. Blearily, he tried to open his eyes and a deep groan escaped him. He could feel a frown forming even as he shifted to find a more comfortable position.

Something felt off. Beyond the way the ground had changed from hard concrete to soft mattress. Beyond the way his head protested at the slightest movement. His senses were too dulled by exhaustion to work out what had changed.

A hand lightly touched his arm and he flinched away, eyes flying open to see a room filled with harsh sunlight. A silhouette sat next to him and the muted words seemed to take on a more urgent tone.

He peered at the figure, and Scott swam into view, his eyes drawn together in a frown.

“Hey, Scott,” whispered Virgil, the sound getting lost on the way.

Scott made no reply, only frowned more deeply, and Virgil felt his attention start to wander. He didn’t recognise his surroundings, not warm enough for the island and not sterile enough for a hospital.

A sharp tap against his shoulder drew his eyes back to his brother. His lips were moving and Virgil stared at them, trying to blink back the fuzzy feeling in his head.

Scott shook his head, the frustration evident in his sharp actions.

Virgil closed his eyes, struggling to comprehend what he was trying to communicate.

Too soon, he thought. He was rapidly sinking under a wave of exhaustion and the persistent buzzing was starting to wrap around his head in a dizzying manner.

A gentle pat pulled his eyes open one last time and he smiled dopily at his brother’s worried face as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

***

His awareness slowly returned to the sight of silent moonlight spilling over the covers. Every part of him ached and he had vague memories of being thrown across a room. His breath felt tight in his lungs, but worse than that was the dial tone ring that accompanied his every waking moment thus far.

It was starting to get annoying.

“Oh, hey, Virgil,” came a slurring voice out of the dark.

A shadow leaned across the bed, and he scrambled away, unsure of who was in the room with him.

“Hey, hey,” said the voice again, slightly louder now. “It’s me, it’s Gordon.”

The light at his bed clicked on and he stared wild-eyed at his younger brother.

The motion had done little to help his cause, and the buzzy sentences were starting to overlap like two people speaking over each other, arguing and pushing against his own frustration that the world didn’t sound right.

And he still felt sick.

“Wha’ happened?” he rasped, releasing the covers from his grip.

Gordon’s response was rapid, seeming to slice right through him as he tried to untangle the start of the sentence from the end.

“Double explosion.”

Virgil closed his eyes from the effort, no longer interested in the rest of the sentence he had missed.

“I feel it,” he mumbled. He brought a hand to his face and winced as he prodded a strange, goopy substance.

“Yeah, let’s leave that,” said Gordon, pulling Virgil’s hand away. “You want that where it is.”

Virgil stared at his brother, concentrating on the sounds.

“Your voice is weird.”

Gordon’s perpetual smile dropped and his eyes grew tight.

“Yeah?” he said, slowly and clearly over that incessant buzz. “Tell me how, big guy.”

Virgil slowly rocked his head back and forth.

“You’re all muffled. And the timing’s off.” He stared at Gordon, expression pleading. “Keep talking.”

Gordon’s lips quirked, but he obliged without question. Virgil couldn’t make out the content, already his attempts to process the sounds were wearing on him, but he needed to know what had changed. There was a reason he’d mistaken his brother for a stranger. There was a reason his brother sounded like a conversation with a meaning just beyond his reach.

“I can’t hear it,” he snarled, shaking his head.

Instead of replying, Gordon grabbed a tablet and began to type.

Virgil stared at him, emotions welling up within. Gratitude that his brother had noticed his distress warred against the hateful feeling of helplessness, that things might have forever changed.

The tablet made it too real.

_You ruptured both your eardrums. Grandma says they can run tests tomorrow. Your brain scan was registering some weird stuff. No need for hospital, so Lady P offered a room._

Virgil read the text in silence. The frustration that had so freely bubbled up only moments before faded away, leaving only exhaustion.

There was one more thing he needed to know before he would allow himself to rest easy.

“Why here?”

Gordon shrugged. He flipped the tablet back around.

“ _n case we needed to launch_.

His brain offered up the sound he’d stopped registering, hearing it in his memory as if for the first time. He inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut at the phantom pain.

“Aw crap, Virg, hang on.”

Gordon ducked into the ensuite and returned with a damp flannel. Virgil took it gratefully and cradled it around his ear, warmth chasing away the steady ache.

He could feel himself relaxing, sinking down into sleep once more.

“Yeah, go to sleep, V,” said Gordon, settling into the chair next to his brother’s bed. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

***

He was pretty sure it was the incessant talking that woke him next.

He rolled over, dragging the covers with him in the hopes his family would get the hint that he was still firmly asleep.

There was to be no such luck as Alan pulled the covers back with a blinding smile.

“Virgil! You’re awake!”

The response in the room was deafening, the sounds overwhelming as they all tried to grab at his attention. The ringing increased, syllables overlapped and all the while Virgil’s brain tried to sort through the mess of sound, to try snatch any kind of meaning from the burst of chatter. But no matter where he turned, only a jumble of noise was left behind.

It would be easy to lose himself, he thought, watching his brothers pile words upon words on top of each other. The world had turned into a foreign soundscape, muffled calls, sentences slurring and sliding into each other, and dissonant voices he could no longer align with his memories.

“Boys! Enough!”

Sharp and discordant in a way that tugged on his ear, Grandma Tracy cut clear through the cacophony. The buoyant white noise subsided until he was left with just one sound. He was ready to gouge out his inner ear than continue to deal with that particular annoyance.

He didn’t catch what was said, still unused to the energy required to partake in conversation, but he watched his brothers leave without protest.

Grandma’s cool hand brushed against his flushed cheeks and she smiled softly.

“Now,” she said. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Virgil knew that fever was setting in, knew that the ache deep in his bones told a tale of injuries more serious than ruptured eardrums, but he saw his Grandma and his defences fell to their knees as she brushed the hair away from his forehead.

“Grandma, I can’t hear right.”

“I know, hon,” she soothed. “Your left ear’s got an infection, we couldn’t keep it out. There’s a course of antibiotics waiting for you and it’ll come back, right as rain.”

“The world…” His breath caught in his chest. “The world sounds wrong.”

He wouldn’t cry, not here, not now. Not over this.

“Tell me how, sweetheart.” Her fingers ghosted over his skin. “It’s okay, just tell me.”

The tears pricked against his eyelids.

“You don’t sound like you should. Like there’s two of you talking.”

“That can happen, that’s your ear infection messing with your sound perception.”

“Everything’s making the wrong sound. I can’t hear the pitch anymore.”

Virgil sucked in a breath and bolted upright, staring at Grandma Tracy in terror.

“Grandma, I won’t be able to _play_.”

Her steady hands found their way back to his cheeks and she pulled him close, careful to avoid the burns across his face.

“You will when you’re better,” she said, slowly and clearly, making certain he couldn’t mistake her meaning. “There’s been no damage to your inner ear, it’s not going to be permanent.”

He relaxed against her, folding into the hug.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She smiled softly as he sank back into the pillows, before straightening in her chair, eyes firm as she looked him over.

“Anything else to tell me?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Sore. Tired. The usual.”

“Good,” she said, patting his shoulder. “This could have been a lot worse. In a few weeks, your ears should be healed and you can go home to work through the duty checks.”

Virgil smiled weakly. He didn’t want to sit around listlessly, with sounds blurring together and two-toned. He wanted to be up and moving, impatient for health and the world vibrant again.

Grandma Tracy leaned forward, and her lips moved with a murmur that couldn’t penetrate his ears.

He’d heard it enough times that it didn’t matter. His brain conjured the sound in her place and lulled him to sleep. At least he could still hear in his dreams.

***

The days went by and Virgil could stay awake for longer and longer periods. The antibiotics took care of the infection and the overlapping voices that had plagued his hearing. The tinnitus faded to almost nothing following a visit to a specialist who had patched his eardrums. Even his bruises had yellowed and started to fade.

“You’re sure you’re up for this?” asked Scott, hovering anxiously. “You’re meant to be resting.”

“I’ve rested plenty,” said Virgil. “I’m fine, a short walk won’t kill me.”

“Yeah, but if you're not, it’ll be my head Grandma come after.”

“Stop worrying and help me tie my damn shoes.”

“Sure,” muttered Scott. “Can’t even reach down to tie his shoelaces, but no, Virgil Tracy is fine, just peachy.”

Virgil kicked him.

“I liked you better when I couldn’t hear you.”

“Not like it matters, seeing as you ignore me either way,” shot Scott back at him. “You ready?”

Virgil nodded, grasping the offered hand and hauling himself upright.

They walked in silence for the most part, no need for words between them. With no chatter in his ears, Virgil could focus on why he’d needed to get outside – he’d needed this. Needed to feel fresh air on his skin, to feel the warmth of the sun sink into his bones. To hear the birds chirping their songs.

He stopped and grabbed at Scott’s arm.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered, hardly daring to interrupt the joyous sound.

“Hear what?” Scott jumped to attention, slipping in front of his brother and eyes roaming the garden.

“The birds, Scott. I can hear the birds.”

“Oh,” said Scott, relaxing. “Yeah, man, I can hear them too.”

Virgil closed his eyes and listened, a smile creeping up from the hope blooming in his heart.

Scott grinned as he watched, his own spirits lifting with his brother’s discovery.

“I guess you’ll be able to hear the mouse in your room now too.”

He opened one eye and glared at his brother.

Scott’s lips curled just a fraction.

Virgil shoved him off the path.

**Author's Note:**

> So I used to teach a unit on "The Ear" when I taught sound, and the entire time I wrote this I just had soundbites from [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMXoHKwWmU8) on loop in my brain {ossicles ossicles ossicles ossicles}
> 
> Thanks for reading, and if you watch the vid - you're welcome xD Original posted on tumblr on 6/10/2020


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